Lucky me!

My finger hovered over the record button on my camera. Should I? Shouldn’t I? I was apprehensive. I was nervous. I just didn’t know what to do.

These boxes, or packages, wrapped in brown paper, weren’t exactly suspicious, because the Corporation had said they’d be sending them out to “1 Million Lucky Subscribers!” But, they weren’t exactly unsuspicious either. They never said what was in them, or why we were getting them. So there was a degree of suspicion there, I suppose. Maybe I was overthinking it. It just pissed me off.

My social media today was already filled with posts about these damn boxes:

“I Got A Box! Watch Me Open it!”

“Woohoo! I was one of the lucky ones! YAY!”

“Anyone get a box?”

“Well, I got my box. Next step, what’s inside?”

“Wtf is this box shit, dude?”

A million fucking boxes. A million fucking posts. And at least 250 thousand fucking videos about them. I mean, real honest to goodness, “unboxings”. Ergh! It all made my head spin. And my blood boil. What was the point? You were quite literally NOT special if you got a box. You were one of a million. That’s one OF a million, not one IN a million. There were 999,999 other people just like you. So why would you think it was soooo important for you to be posting about it? Why was YOUR video going to be THE one that anybody cared about?

I removed my finger from the camera button. I wasn’t going to feed into the hype, I had decided. It didn’t interest me. And yet, I still felt the pull. My finger went back to the button. I pressed it. My camera’s screen lit up, and flashed, and blurred, and refocussed. Ready for your closeup, eh, I thought, glancing at the box.

I stood up, and moved into position over the box, which was on the table.

“Ok, guys,” I began, faking a “video voice” that sounded nothing like me. “Here it is. The box. I got one. Let’s get in there, shall we…”

NO! I threw the camera across the room, and into the far wall. I heard it crash and smash and shatter and break.

NO! I will NOT be a part of this ever increasing trend of sharing everything. And for what, anyway? A fucking box? From some corporation? Like they didn’t know this was going to happen? Like they weren’t aware that today the net would be flooded with this bullshit? And what could possibly be in there anyway?

I ran to the wall and inspected the camera. Shit. Definitely broken beyond repair. I still had my phone though. I pulled it out, and hit the camera app. The carpet blurred and then focussed, just like the other camera 10 seconds ago. I went back to the table. I hit record.

“Yo, yo yo!” I started, more jovial, and happy, and hip? Whatever.

“So, guys, I got one of the boxes. Yay for me! I’m real excited. Why would they send me one? I’m nobody. But I’m glad I got one anyway…”

NO! I threw the phone onto the sofa this time. I was mad, but not stupid. The camera was pretty cheap; this phone was not. I went over to check it out anyway. It was fine. I was relieved. I stopped the recording, and deleted the footage immediately, before sliding the phone back into my pocket.

I sighed. Fucking hell, man! This was ridiculous! Here I was, on a Monday morning, debating whether or not to share a video of me opening some stupid box. WHILE, at the SAME time, complaining about everybody else doing the exact same thing. What kind of person was I?

And it’s not like I didn’t have anything else to worry about. I had a job interview in an hour, and I hadn’t even picked out what to wear yet. Later on, I had a doctor’s appointment regarding something I found last week that hadn’t gone away. The kids were coming back from their school trip this afternoon, and I had nothing to feed them. The house was a mess from top to bottom, and I when the hell was I going to clean it? I had a stack of unpaid bills on the other table in the living room, and another stack of overdue notices in the kitchen. Basically, I had a whole shit ton of stuff to really worry about, and to really get done, and yet here I was worrying about some fucking box.

I shook my head, and sat down on the sofa, head in hands.

Should I?

Fuck! I just didn’t know.

What if I did?

I would probably get like 10 likes at least. Maybe even a couple of comments too. That would be nice.

It was tempting.

I pulled out my phone again. Maybe I’d just post a photo?

I stood up, hit the camera app again, slid it to photomode, and snapped a quick pic of the box sitting innocently on the table there.

I looked at the photo. Good enough. I loaded up the first social media app, tapped the text box, added the photo, and…

“Well, well, well, look what arrived this morning, guys. What do you think? Should I just go for it, or?”

My finger hovered over the post button this time. I was sweating. My heart was pounding. The anxiety was all encompassing.

NO!

GODDAMNIT, NO!

I dropped the phone on the floor, and grabbed the box. I hauled it to the garage, and then out into the back yard. I stuck it firmly into the firepit. I poured lighter fluid all over it. I lit a match. I threw the match. I turned around, and walked away, without even watching it all burn to nothing.

Fuck you, box, I said, firmly, in my head. I wasn’t going to be a part of the madness any longer. I wasn’t going to be a part of ANY of this anymore. Things had to change. And they had to change now. If not now, then when? Hmm? It was a simple question. But there had to be action as well. I had to make the point clear. It had to start somewhere, with someone.

So, I opened the front door, and just left the house entirely. I didn’t even bother to pick up my phone again. That would show them all, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it?